


Why Won't You?

by freakingdork



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Angst, M/M, PTSD, Pre-Slash, Romance, Season/Series 05, Season/Series 06, Slash, WIP, past sexual abuse reference
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-06-30
Updated: 2012-05-21
Packaged: 2017-10-20 21:06:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 18,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/217096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freakingdork/pseuds/freakingdork
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"There is no shame in not knowing; the shame lies in not finding out." Reid swore Morgan had feelings for him, but a simple statement has him doubting. Starts at "Exit Wounds" (5x21), but currently up to Lauren (6x18).</p><p> <b>On indefinite hiatus.</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Space Between

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is NOT finished. This fic will never be finished. You are reading this fic, knowing that I haven't updated since May 2012 (and the update before that was Sept 2011!) and I've let you know that there won't be any more updates. **You are reading this knowing there is no true ending* and that you may be dissatisfied by this fact once you get to the last chapter.**
> 
> I hate to be harsh, but I really want people to know what they're getting themselves into.
> 
> If you would like to leave comments (and I would love for you to!), please keep them relevant to the content of the work and not of the "write more!" variety (it gives me huge amounts of anxiety and leads to writer's block). If you're having difficulties, take a look at [this guide](http://freakingdork-oldblog.tumblr.com/post/44902545254/fanfiction-a-quick-guide-to-reviewing).
> 
>  ***UPDATE:** When you're done, definitely check out the work "inspired" by this one; even though it's mildly AU, it's the closest any of us are ever getting to an ending, myself included. Thank you for being understanding.

He clenched his jaw as he tried to hold onto some semblance of control.

He knew Reid had no idea. Reid didn't understand that changing his clothes so unabashedly made Derek's own pants feel tight, that inappropriate thoughts invaded his mind every time Reid sucked those  _goddamn_  lollipops, that he felt jealous when Reid's graceful hands tightly hugged a coffee mug, that his hair was a temptation just begging to be pulled, or that the way Reid rambled gave him plenty of time to stare at those sensual lips...

One time, Reid had invited him into his bedroom. It was a few years back when the withdrawals had been too much to handle alone and Derek had slept on the floor, blocking the door. Obviously, it had been completely innocent, but the way Reid had asked, the desperate need completely naked in his voice - along with finally seeing the inside of his bedroom - had only added to Derek's fantasies later.

So when Hotch stated that they'd have to double up, he was quick to say, "I'm  _not_  sleeping with Reid." And as the words came out, harsher than he'd meant, Derek could have sworn Reid was actually offended, maybe even hurt. He was thankful Garcia called dibs so quickly. Their relationship was so playfully platonic that it took the focus off what he'd said about Reid and directed it towards a comfortable and familiar joke that made everyone chuckle. His muscles relaxed slightly. Derek wasn't in the mood for being profiled by one of his coworkers and Garcia had accidentally given him the escape he needed.

As Derek tried to sleep that night, his mind kept returning to the memory of the last time they'd shared a room. Reid had quickly stripped down to next to nothing. Well...down to tight, black briefs to be exact and they blatantly highlighted the area Derek was unsuccessfully willing his eyes to avoid. That time, there had been separate beds and thus, no risk of accidentally brushing Reid with an erection, no risk of Reid waking up to Derek's arms wrapped around him, no risk of fucking up and upsetting his best friend. He just couldn't risk losing control.

He decided if he couldn't get sleep, he needed his brain to go back to working the case. He needed the case to distract him from wondering what Reid's cum tasted like, among other things.

Garcia solved that problem too. Unfortunately for her, she did it by stumbling upon the unsub's latest victim, but his friend putting herself in danger finally brought things back into focus for Derek.

* * *

He'd tried to suppress it, but he couldn't help the pained and slightly embarrassed expression that briefly graced his face.

He knew. And he was quite positive that Morgan had dismissed the possibility that he knew, which angered him. Spencer could concede that compared to the others on his team, it was harder for him to read people if he wasn't trying and that it could take him longer to get certain aspects, but it wasn't impossible. If he wasn't able to read the most basic body language cues, he wouldn't be working at the BAU, much less be considered good at his job. The entire team had trouble remembering this fact, but he was far more offended when it was Morgan who forgot.

It was the lingering glances. They had made him slightly uncomfortable and thus, aware that his best friend might have sexual feelings towards him. The first time Spencer noticed, he had started "lecturing" to deal with the confusion and uncertainty, but this caused Morgan to stare more intensely, at his mouth no less. It certainly decreased his doubts, but in turn, increased his anxiety.

So to cope with his growing anxiety and excitement, he engaged in another calming activity - absorbing information. The more he read, the more he watched, the more facts he possessed...the calmer he began to feel.

But as of yet, this knowledge hadn't gotten him very far. He had easily deduced that Morgan liked his mouth, so he brought lollipops to suck on while working on paperwork. This had not resulted in Morgan slamming him against a wall like he'd hoped. If he had to be honest with himself, it seemed to have the opposite effect. Recently, they'd shared a room during a case and he'd attempted to seduce Morgan by stripping down to his underwear. Perhaps not the best timing, but Morgan had excused himself to take a walk and avoided meeting his eyes for the rest of the week.

Despite the popular belief regarding his own cluelessness, he had begun to suspect that Morgan was the one who had a problem with reading people and not the other way around.

But after Morgan's proclamation regarding sleeping arrangements, all he had was doubt.

* * *

He hated keeping Reid at arm's length since they had been exceptionally close friends for years now. They had leaned on each other for support almost exclusively, but he could see the distance growing, especially now that the case was done. He wasn't sure if Reid was giving him the silent treatment or if he was just preoccupied and the uncertainty bothered him more than he cared to admit.

"Hey kid, my car's probably faster than the train and far more comfortable. Why don't you let me drive you home?" he asked once they were off the plane.

Reid gave him an empty stare and sighed before straightening up.

"...if leaving at the same time, your car is actually 3 minutes slower, but the next train won't leave for another 12 minutes." Reid paused, licking his lower lip. "Only if you let me drive."

With that and a slightly lop-sided grin, Derek could only smile and agree to Reid's request. It ended up being a quiet drive and he didn't quite understand why. Reid had  _smiled_ , right? Because as Reid put the car in park outside his apartment, he just looked pained.

"Morgan? Come up to my apartment."

"I don't know...I didn't exactly sleep in Alaska and..."

"You left beer here last time. The new Star Trek movie arrived just before we left. Fu Gardens delivers rather late. Pietro's does too. I'll sleep on the couch if you get too tired and need to stay."

"Reid, I..."

"Just...please don't leave me alone right now."

He heard the faintest hint of desperation in Reid's voice and that combined with his recent shift in moods made him fear the worst.

"Okay kid, sure. Don't make me regret it," he joked, flashing his trademark smile. "Is General Tso's chicken okay with you?"

Reid relaxed. "Did you know that General Tso's chicken would actually be more accurately described as American food as it didn't originate in China, but most likely a restaurant in New York? And actually, there are many dishes served at Chinese restaurants that are misattributed..."

"...Pretty Boy."

"Yes?"

"What would _you_ like to eat?"


	2. Unfold Me

He hadn't meant to sound desperate. Hell, he'd meant to go home and sulk in silence. This night was not going as planned; however, this was not necessarily a bad thing. After all, Morgan called him Pretty Boy. He couldn't remember the last time he'd heard that pet name and the hope that he was reading Morgan correctly grew stronger.

When the Kung Pao chicken arrived, Spencer had to eat it with a fork. He'd spent years trying and failing to learn how to use chopsticks and this bothered him, if only because it felt slightly disrespectful to eat Asian food without the traditional utensils. Morgan had taken advantage of yet another opportunity to tease him that, despite his "resident genius" status, there didn't appear to be any technique to teach him how to hold chopsticks correctly. The familiar joke made him smile and feel better, but he still made a mental note to go with Pietro's the next time he didn't want to feel more self-conscious than necessary.

After dinner, they got settled on the couch and the opening credits rolled. Morgan's muscular arm wrapped around him, pulling Spencer to his chest. If it were anyone else, this would have been uncomfortable, upsetting, but Morgan made him feel safe and protected. Feeling his chest rise and fall was a constant reminder that, if nothing else, Morgan cared deeply about him. Most days that was all he needed, but he recognized that those days were decreasing rapidly. He could swear there was a date-like quality to the evening and Spencer hoped that Morgan felt it too, but given his past dismissals, he knew it was likely that Morgan would brush off any such feelings as a misinterpretation of the situation. It seemed he was going to have to find a way to be even more direct. He knew he needed to muster up some courage sooner rather than later; the slight ache in his heart was threatening to become a gaping wound if he didn't. Unfortunately, when the movie ended, Morgan shifted in a way that made him feel wary.

"Where's the Dilaudid?" Morgan asked in a calm and even tone.

Spencer shot up from the comfortable embrace, eyes ablaze, and backed away from the couch.

"What? _What_ did you just ask me?" Anger seared every word. "Because I am clean, Morgan! Clean! Don't you think I would have told you if...?"

"Hey, whoa..." Morgan interrupted, "I never said you weren't. I just wanna keep it that way, so let's get it outta here, okay?"

"Why would you think that I...?" he started, but immediately stopped himself.

He quickly processed the past few days. Hot and cold behavior. Mood shifts. Desperation and neediness.

 _'Shit.'_

* * *

"Why would you think that I...?"

He watched as the anger turned to confusion then to concentration then to something he could only describe as a calm sadness. Reid stared at the ground as if it threatened to swallow him up. Derek just sat there, waiting. He knew well enough when Reid needed a moment to collect his thoughts and when Reid needed prompting.

"You know the usual places. Go look. Don't forget my overnight bag. And hey, you're a good enough profiler, so if you think there's somewhere else I may have stashed it..." his voice cracked. "Actually, toss the entire apartment. I don't care."

He'd hated to break up what felt like a really great evening, but the thought that there were drugs somewhere, putting Reid at risk, was too much to bear. Derek thought he was doing the right thing. Apparently, he wasn't.

"I don't care," Reid repeated, this time a whisper.

"Reid, I...look, obviously, I misread something. So why don't you tell me what's really going on in that genius brain of yours?"

Silence crept in. The air that hung between them was heavy with emotion.

"C'mon Reid, what's so bad you can't tell me, huh?"

Reid turned to stare at one of his many bookshelves, nervously tapping his fingers on his pants. More stalling and silence - something had to be seriously wrong to keep his talkative friend this quiet.

"Seriously man, I care about you. Whatever you say won't change..."

"I'm  _not_  sleeping with Reid," Reid echoed, his voice filled with pain. "Why? Why not? What's so wrong with sharing a bed or even just a room with me? It's not like one of us couldn't have slept on the floor; you even told Garcia you'd sleep on the floor."

Derek was taken aback. He had no reasonable answer other than the truth and he wasn't sure he was ready to discuss it or even how well that conversation would go.

"Besides Morgan, don't you  _want_  me?"

The desperate need quietly reappeared in Reid's voice, but this time Derek understood what it meant and his mind was falling over itself to catch up.

"Because I thought you did, but then you said that and I started doubting..."

 _'Shit, he's still talking...'_

"...and well, also when I tried sucking lollipops like I saw in this porn..."

 _'...you need to concentrate...focus...'_

"...black seemed like a good color due to the high contrast with my skin tone and high contrast tends to draw the eye..."

 _'...goddamn those are sexy lips...'_

"...and I even went to a gay club. I'd read that lanky nerds are 'in this season,' which I find to be an interesting phrase given the predatory nature of the club scene, but I hadn't anticipated the number of men who propositioned me and..."

The thought of other men hitting on Reid snapped him back to his senses. With his need quickly overpowering his dwindling self-control, he stood up and took a quick step forward, nearly throwing Reid off balance. He grasped Reid's face between his hands and leaned forward...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just before I first posted this over on FF, I had started working on the next couple of sections at work and then plotted out my story line for...pretty far down the road, based on what I'd written...then I got home and went to find a quote from "Our Darkest Hour" to use with what I wrote...only to realize there was an episode in between "Exit Wounds" and "Our Darkest Hour." FML.
> 
> So I decided to watch "The Internet Is Forever" again to see if I was missing anything important by not including it (and also because the quote was in that episode). Minus the haircut, there was nothing else that really needed to be included for my own purposes, and I thought the haircut happened in "Our Darkest Hour" anyway, so it was already part of what I wrote....so I went with a plot hole, effectively erasing that episode from my story, lol.


	3. Baby I'm Bad News

He caught Morgan staring at his mouth yet again, which almost instinctually launched him into a nervous "lecture" regarding his behavior over the past few months, making sure to highlight the reasons he was doubting his conclusions. Spencer wasn't entirely sure where he was going with it, but he knew if he didn't say anything, he might start crying instead. Rambling came more naturally and seemed far less embarrassing.

And then, his brain stopped working.

He'd made out with other people before - mostly guys - but there were only a couple that came within the range of  _that good_. As in, good enough that the endless supply of facts and statistics came to a screeching halt, even if only for a second. Apparently, Derek was  _that good_.

There was nothing insecure or patient about the way Derek kissed him. No, the unbridled passion that bruised his lips told him just how hard Derek had struggled to contain his lust. Spencer's lips quickly complied with the demands of Derek's tongue and he moaned as the tongue slithered in and out of his mouth. The taste was sweet and spicy and far better than he'd imagined. He confidently ran his hands across Derek's chest and Derek broke the kiss just long enough to remove his shirt. Spencer's fingertips delicately glided over the exposed skin, circling his nipples and Derek gasped, shivering ever so slightly.

One of Derek's hand threaded itself in Spencer's hair then tugged violently, making his neck easier to access. As Derek's tongue ran the length of his neck, Spencer practically purred in delight. Suddenly, he felt the shock of Derek biting down, hard, near his ear. _'Does he want me to end up stuttering in the break room when the others inevitably tease me about having a hickey?'_  he wondered. That question kept him from realizing that Derek had slammed up against a wall until the pain finally caught up with his brain. He'd definitely fantasized about it before, but it hurt more than he expected.  _'Did he mean to push me that hard or...?'_

He didn't have time to finish that thought as Derek's needy fingers unbuttoned his sweater and partially undid the bottom of his shirt. Sturdy hands grabbed his hips and he watched as Derek kneeled in front of him. He felt Derek's tongue grazing his stomach, the skin burning from the touch. He moaned loudly as Morgan moved lower. His belt was being unbuckled and his pants easily fell to the floor.

His mind went into hyper drive. Everything was moving too fast. The roughness coming from someone who was usually his protector startled and frightened him. He needed to slow down, maybe even stop, but he was finding it rather difficult with Derek teasing multiple erogenous zones.

"Derek," he panted.

 _'Shit. That didn't come out right.'_

Derek looked encouraged by his exclamation. He ran his tongue up Spencer's inner thigh, stopping very close to his underwear.

"Mmm...tasty," Derek growled as he nipped at the delicate skin.

"Morgan," he whined, trying to get his attention. "Please, I..."

Derek's hands slipped between the fabric and skin, tracing lines along Spencer's hips. He squeezed his eyes shut and balled his fists.

"No, I...hold on Morgan. Stop. Stop!"

He felt Derek's eyes on him and his hands left Spencer's body. When Spencer opened his eyes, he saw a face full of fear and shock.

"I just wanted..." he started, but Derek was already standing, quickly backing away; he looked horrified. As Spencer shuffled towards him, pants still around his ankles, Morgan grabbed his keys and left, apparently forgetting that he was shirtless.

 _'Double shit.'_

* * *

Looking up at Spencer, he saw eyes clenched shut in fear and hands balled in pain.  _'Isn't that what Carl saw when he abused you?'_ his mind taunted.

One in eight abuse victims become abusers - he knew that handy little fact, thanks to Spencer himself. He knew that occasionally his anger got the better of him and that he had a tendency towards being aggressive in the bedroom. For the most part, he was able to keep himself from doing anything he'd regret later and of the things he did regret, they generally involved regretting that he had to repair yet another hole in the walls of his house. Knowing this didn't stop him from constantly worrying that he would eventually hurt someone as badly as he'd been hurt himself.

And here was his worst fear, coming to life before his own eyes.

The numbness spread over his body as everything began to feel foreign and hazy. He realized his autopilot was still rather intact when he found himself at home. Sure, he kinda remembered leaving, but he wasn't sure if he'd said anything, and hell, he was shirtless. Still, those things didn't seem quite as important as getting home safely, so he didn't put too much thought to it.

He moved through his house in a fog, feeling thoroughly haunted by Spencer's fearful expression. After putting Clooney outside, he got in the shower. He kept adjusting the water temperature until it was nearly scalding his skin. It didn't matter that he already knew he'd never be able to wash away the past - he still scrubbed until his skin felt raw and the water turned cold.

Nothing really registered that night. He put on ESPN, but the announcers sounded muddy and far off. He hadn't slept for more than four hours before he was completely awake again, but that didn't stop him from laying in bed for most of the day. He didn't eat. He let phone calls go to voicemail and only called back when the other person was worried and wasn't Spencer; he lost track of how many times Spencer tried to reach him. Clooney had tried to snuggle up next to him a few times, but he pushed the dog away. He couldn't stand even that much contact.

Logically, he knew he was dissociating and potentially heading towards far more self-destructive behaviors.

Then he realized he was desperately hoping for JJ to call to inform him of a new case. A new case meant adrenaline and adrenaline meant focus. He didn't need to be self-destructive; he needed adrenaline. Since there was no call, he went to the gym for what was left of Saturday and almost all of Sunday. He knew he was pushing his body past its limits and that, if they were called in for a case, it could wind up putting him and the others in danger, but he couldn't stop. Every muscle ached and he didn't care - he finally felt hungry and actually slept Sunday night.

He woke up feeling that, assuming Spencer was willing, he was ready to talk. When he arrived at the Bureau, JJ told him to get into the conference room for a briefing. Everyone was there, except for Spencer. It made him nervous.  _'What if I really fucked things up? Oh god, I must have...'_

JJ interrupted his thoughts. "Well, I guess we can brief Spence on the plane," she offered before starting her presentation on the upcoming case.


	4. Awaken Your Anxieties

Standing as still as possible, he listened to Derek drive away and he continued standing for far longer than he should have, straining to hear if he'd come back. Eventually, Spencer stepped out of his pants, changed into his pajamas, and laid down on the couch, hoping a knock on the door would wake him.

Sleep eluded him. Guilt kept rearing its ugly head every time he got close, even though his rational mind knew that neither he nor Derek was at fault. They both had ghosts from the pasts that had interfered with the present – nothing more, nothing less. Unfortunately, rational thought didn't keep his eidetic memory from replaying every moment.

When Friday finally turned into Saturday, Spencer willed himself off the couch after only a few hours of sleep and started cleaning. He'd stopped 11 times during a 5 hour period to call Derek, but each time Derek didn't pick up, a new cycle of guilt started and the cleaning became more frenzied. In the back of his mind, Spencer hoped that if he cleaned hard enough, his body and mind would settle down. He wanted read a few newly released government reports and a couple of the books he'd picked up last week, but as the day went on, it became apparent that wasn't going to happen. He considered taking the Metro to sit outside Derek's door until he was let in, but he did something far more foolish instead.

He cut his hair.

There was no logical reason behind what he did. He wasn't even quite sure how it even happened. There were scissors and then the scissors were in his hands and then a large portion of his hair was on the his bathroom floor. When he looked in the mirror and saw his jagged handiwork, Spencer panicked and called the one person he thought might be able to help.

"Hey sweet cheeks, whatcha doin' calling me at home? You know any calls after hours cost more..." she joked.

The words came tumbling out. "Garcia, I...well, you know...I just...umm, I did something stupid."

"What kind of stupid are we talking about?" she smirked. "Cuz there's every day stupid and there's 'I'm usually such a genius' stupid."

"I may have tried to cut my hair and it might look like a 5 year old did it?" he confessed.

She laughed sympathetically. "Sounds like every day stupid to me."

"Try not to sound so smug," he laughed. "Besides, regardless of what type it is, it's stupid that needs to be fixed."

"Oh, silly me... Lemme get you the address for my friend Tony's place. He's  _fabulous_...and into nerdy guys." He could practically hear her wink.

"Garcia!" he protested. "How many times do I have to tell you that I don't want help with that?"

"Just sayin...you could use some lovin, baby boy." He bit his tongue. Now was definitely not the time to divulge the other rash decision he'd recently made.

Address in one hand and coffee in the other, Spencer made his way downtown, ready for a professional to fix the mess he'd created. Thankfully, it wasn't too far; he was embarrassed enough as it was without the multitude of strangers staring at him. The shop was small and a bit off the beaten path, but it was well-kept and there were plenty of customers waiting. When Tony came over to greet him, Spencer had a hard time keeping his eyes from wandering. The man was undeniably his type - a muscular build with full lips that sported a friendly smile. To top it off, Tony's emerald eyes were strikingly handsome and full of expression.

"Oh hunny, when Penelope called and said it wasn't going to be good...well, I didn't expect it to be  _this_  bad." He felt Tony's eyes look him over. "Don't worry, I know just the fix," Tony bragged. "I'll make it so that you'll be catching the eyes of every pretty girl who walks by you." Spencer made a face and Tony amended, "Oh, darlin...all the boys were too busy watching your tight ass to notice your hair, but I'll give them something to look at...in case their eyes ever wander up to your face." A sly grin, along with the innuendo, made Spencer flush.

Tony winked. "Okay, time to work some magic pretty boy."

"P-please don't call me that," he stammered.

An inquisitive look came across his face, but rather than asking the question that came to mind, Tony focused on Spencer's hair. Spencer was thankful that it didn't take too long to get him cleaned up. The flirting made him feel cagey and the use of his nickname distressed him.  _'Why did he have to call me pretty boy? Shit...did Garcia tell him to do that? Breathe, keep breathing...it could be a coincidence, right? Right?'_

"There, perfect! Do you think your boyfriend will like it?" Tony pried, gesturing to the very apparent bruise under his left ear. Spencer's hand shot up to cover it and his pupils dilated. "Ah, it  _is_  a boy. Very lucky man," Tony mused. "Well, you know where to find me if his luck ever runs out," he reminded Spencer as he left.

When Garcia called him an hour later, Spencer let it go to voicemail.

Sunday finally arrived and he could hardly sit still. He went for a walk that turned into a train ride and unsurprisingly he found himself sitting outside Derek's house. Spencer stayed for a few hours, but it was obvious he wasn't home - the truck was gone and Clooney kept barking with no one to command him to stop.  _'I have to stay,'_  he tried to convince himself.  _'If we don't talk, we'll be distracted and if we get a new case, that'll be dangerous.'_ But it started to get late and Clooney's incessant barking had the neighbors staring. He hated being in the spotlight and he'd spent far too much time being stuck in one over the past few days, so he went home, defeated.

He hadn't realized he was asleep until a buzzing noise startled the slumbering genius. He checked his phone and was greeted with a text asking "omg y didnt u tell me u were seeing some1?"

 _'Ugh Garcia...it's too early for this...although, what time is...OOOOH SHIT, why didn't my alarm go off? I don't even have time for coffee! DOUBLE SHIT.'_

He raced against the clock, even though he knew there was no way he'd make it on time. Thankfully, taking the train meant he had time to apply some cover up to his hickey, so the only thing everyone seemed to notice was his hair. Unfortunately, by the time he arrived, the only seat open was right next to Derek who appeared to be ignoring that anything had happened between them.

 _'Fine, I can do that too,'_  he thought bitterly, despite knowing it wasn't entirely true. He could probably keep it together and pretend until the case ended, but after that, all bets were off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) For me, Garcia is hard to write. I feel like I'm not funny enough to write her and I consistently worry about making her a vehicle for my fangirl-ish thoughts, which I think is a fine line to walk in general. INSECURITY.
> 
> 2) So...no real explanation for Reid's haircut = excellent explanation for Reid's haircut, right? I thought so anyway. Cuz really...WHY MATTHEW, WHY? And yes, I know that he just randomly took a hunting knife to it after directing Mosely Lane, so I guess I kinda based it on that.
> 
> 3) If you like Tony's comment about Reid's ass, you can thank Tumblr and all the lovely people who kept re-blogging pictures of Matthew's spectacular ass. :-)


	5. Your Secrets I Will Keep

He knew things were going to be different between the two men once the weekend was over, but this was not the direction he'd assumed it would have gone.

Aaron had seen Morgan clench his jaw, he could practically feel Reid's dejected look in his bones, and he caught glimpses of shock and subsequent denial on Morgan's face in response to Reid's reaction. He'd watched while they'd worked the case rather professionally given how they were feeling, though he did observe that Reid's personal "bubble" had grown considerably and then he'd sulked once on the plane. Aaron almost laughed when he saw Morgan hand over his keys – he seemed to have no clue as to how much power that "kid" had over him. He was positive they were going to spend the entire weekend fucking each other's brains out, though he wasn't sure he was entirely thrilled by the idea. More rule breaking with the possibility of shitty consequences he'd have to deal with later.

Then Monday came around and well, if he wasn't a damn good profiler, he could have missed it. Things were certainly different and not in a good way. Reid came in uncharacteristically late, so much so that Aaron had started to wonder if he needed to start calling hospitals or sending out SWAT teams to find him. Morgan looked like someone had beat the shit out of him, multiple times. Neither of them looked like they'd slept. He could swear there was a hint of cover up near Reid's left ear, which made the fact that Spencer had cut his hair even stranger.

"What? Did you join a boy band?" he quipped, trying to assess the situation further.

"...no?" Reid responded, clearly confused and distracted.

He observed Reid uncomfortably shift his chair towards him and away from Morgan. Morgan's chuckle sounded forced and his smile lasted too long, like he was trying too hard to get it right.

For fuck's sake, he was already dealing with Prentiss and Dave's shitty ass tiffs for going on 2 years now. And oh, sure, Garcia and Kevin were out in the open AND they weren't even on the same team, but that hadn't stopped their drama from making its way to his desk. Seriously, what did Garcia think would happen when she called dibs on Morgan while in Alaska? Because, as he knew he would, Kevin called him multiple times, looking to a profiler to tell him what he should already know - Garcia only had eyes for him, not Morgan.

He knew if this didn't resolve itself soon, it would up to  _him_  to set the problem straight while pretending there wasn't a problem in the first place.  _'My fucking favorite,'_  he thought.

He sighed. He loved his team; they were his family and he would put his life on the line for any one of them. But holy mother of hell, if he could get his family to follow the goddamn fraternization rules, his life would be so much simpler. Simplicity was quite a luxury to wish for in his line of work, but there was no way in hell he was going to stop wishing for it. Besides, with all of them pairing up and attempting to keep it a secret from everyone else kinda made everything feel a little...incestuous.  _'I mean, what normal family has this many members hooking up with one another?'_  he pondered.

"...and raped repeatedly."

 _'Fucking hell,'_  he realized.  _'JJ's talking. Focus. Contribute.'_

"He chose to keep her alive," he added.

Again, the boys were professional as ever while discussing the case, though he worried a fight might break out in the plane when Prentiss wouldn't give up her seat to Reid. She, of course, wanted to be seated next to Dave and Reid, of course, looked like he might have a breakdown if he had to sit next to Morgan again.  _'I have to admit...if they can be this professional when they're obviously fighting, they might not be as much trouble once they make up.'_

But without the case to discuss, it was obvious how trapped Reid felt in the jet. The stream of statistics pouring from his lips no longer had it's usual distinctive flow, a decent indicator that something was up. Reid even butted in on a conversation he was having with Dave about taking Jack to his first baseball game to ramble on about a paper he wrote on philosophy of Battlestar Galactica a few years back. ' _Fucking Prentiss, shoving him off on us. I hope Dave at least gets some make-up sex for this one...one of us deserves to have something good come out of this.'_

It was setting the entire team on edge, except for Morgan, who seemed entirely oblivious to  _everything_  around him and somehow managed to fall asleep. This was confusing to say the least. It's not that he doubted Reid's ability to cause trouble or fuck up, especially when it came to interpersonal relationships, but he'd always thought that Morgan would be the first to fuck up. Hell, there were far more ways for Morgan to fuck up than Reid and while he knew profiling wasn't an exact science, he felt strangely bothered by not getting this one right.

 _'Motherfucking shit ass day. Stupid sons of bitches fucking it up. Goddamnit, if those bastards don't man up soon, I just might fucking explode.'_

He was grateful no one could hear his thoughts. As the plane landed, he took a couple of deep breaths and felt calm once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like, for some, my version of Hotch might come off as somewhat OOC, so I apologize for that. I really want to stay true to the characters, but I've just always had it in my head that the only way Hotch is able to keep that stoic mask under control is by swearing (...or kinky sex, but that doesn't really work for this story, I think). A lot. Especially because he's got work where he always has to be on top of his game with appearing professional and playing the politics and he can't swear at home without teaching Jack "adult" words.
> 
> Add to this that he seems to have gotten angrier and/or more resentful since Haley divorced him and subsequently died. Understandable. I also figured this extra resentment would seep into his views on the relationships happening between his team members since poor Hotch doesn't have anyone to go home to, at least in the romantic sense.


	6. Dark Side Of The Moon

He was at his wit's end.

 _'Maybe if Spencer hadn't spent the entire plane babbling about some philosophy concepts and how they relate to that show he's always trying to get me to watch, I could have actually slept rather than pretending. Maybe if Spencer hadn't randomly cut his hair short enough to reveal that poorly covered up bruise I left, I could be focus on the case instead of staring at his neck. Maybe if Spencer didn't keep standing behind me, I wouldn't be distracted by his breath on my neck. Maybe if...'_

He pinched the bridge of his nose.  _'No, it's more like...maybe if I didn't fuck everything up between Spencer and me, then maybe I wouldn't be so fuckin edgy.'_

Nothing was going well. The interview with the boy that the unsub left alive went terribly, mostly because of Detective Spicer, who was reacting as if  _he_  had seen his own parents die. In fact, Spicer had seen them die, at the hands of the same unsub no less, but no one knew that it until Derek had the luck to pick up the file. Oh, and the unsub had been killing for at least 26 years.

 _'Can this case get any worse?'_  he wondered.

Then it did get worse. Spicer's sister, Kristen, and his daughter, Ellie, had been kidnapped by the unsub. After the entire city went dark and all the cell towers overloaded, Derek realized that the apartment they were rushing towards had no meaning to the unsub and they had driven to Spicer's childhood home instead. There was no back up, just them, and Spicer had gone in anyway.

That's how Derek ended up on the floor, bound with tape, blood flowing from a wound near his left temple, watching Spicer plead for his daughter's life. Apparently, he talked too much because the unsub suddenly kicked his ribs so hard that his whole mouth tasted of copper and his head was spinning. As his vision blurred and his brain struggled to stay conscious, he screamed at Spicer to pick up his gun, urging him to remember that the unsub hadn't killed kids. Spicer wasn't listening and had the audacity to ask Derek to promise that he'd keep Ellie safe. Derek knew Spicer would be dead the second he made the promise, but Kristen's wailing forced him to make it anyway. A single gunshot to the head and it was done.

"We will find you, you sick son of a bitch," he vowed.

"Is that another promise?" the unsub sneered as he yanked Ellie into the night.

* * *

He needed to focus on the case, but it was getting to be impossible.

Spencer knew better than to go so far off topic, yet he found himself rambling about things that no one really cared about. He knew Rossi and Hotch didn't want to hear a debate about free will versus determinism and, of course, Spicer had looked at him like he was an alien when he went on a tangent about moral concepts. He was distressed by how tired and sore Derek looked; it didn't take a genius to figure out that it was his fault. Every time he was in the same room as Derek, he used all his willpower resisting the urge to bridge the gap between them, if only because Spencer desperately wanted to comfort him.

His heart seized up and he felt incredibly light-headed when JJ informed him that Derek had been restrained and beaten by the unsub. The words she said afterwards about Spicer and his family didn't register until they were in the car. He wanted to scream at JJ for not driving faster; he needed to see that Derek was actually alive for himself.

They arrived just as the medic left and he repressed his urge to roll his eyes.  _'Oh goodie, he's refusing medical treatment...big surprise there...'_

"...Derek," JJ said, full of concern.

"I'm alright," Derek replied harshly.

Trying to keep the fear from his voice, he pointed out, "You don't look alright."

Rage filled Derek's eyes. "Reid, drop it!"

"Sorry..." Spencer whispered, before swallowing hard and walking away.

He knew the anger wasn't fully meant for him, but it didn't hurt any less and the pain in Derek's eyes was unbearable. Then Morgan stormed off anyway after a well-meaning question about Ellie. At the station, he incurred Derek's wrath again by forgetting how personally involved the other man was.  _'Or the unsub might kill Ellie because almost half of abducted kids are killed in the first hour, that's a great thing to imply, good job genuis...'_ he berated himself _._ When he heard Derek yelling at Garcia, he couldn't help but wonder how much of Derek's reaction was his fault.  _'Well, I'm certainly not making the situation any better.'_

* * *

"Morgan, Reid – go check out the RV," he instructed.

Aaron knew he might be making a terrible decision, but it was the choice he would have made prior to whatever had occurred over the weekend. He knew Morgan would insist on seeing the trailer no matter what and he needed Reid in there if the unsub had journals or really...anything else that needed to be read. It didn't make sense to send anyone else.

Both men had tensed, but Reid immediately walked over to the vehicle and eventually, Morgan trailed behind him.

* * *

"It smells pretty rancid in here," Spencer warned.

Looking at the floor, he gestured to Derek, "He cut her hair."

The rage was palpable. "I swear to god, when I get my hands on this son of a..."

"That might actually be good," he interrupted, looking up. The distraught face staring back at him almost stopped his brain entirely. "Why disguise someone you're going to kill?" he reasoned.

Pain still radiated from Derek's eyes, but there was an unmistakable glimmer of hope too. Derek had stepped closer to examine the article Spencer found and his heart skipped a beat. As Derek started to leave to inform the rest of the team what they'd found, he grabbed his wrist.

"We need to talk."

"Now is the  _worst_  possible..."

"I know, I'm not saying now. Promise me that when we find Ellie and get home, we'll talk," he pleaded.

Derek sighed. "Kid, I'm pretty sure I couldn't say no to you even if I wanted to. Now, finish reading anything you can find in here."

He hurried through the stacks of newspapers, looking for something, anything that they could use to find Ellie. Then he found what he hoped would be a jackpot - a hint that the unsub's first murder might have been earlier than they'd originally thought. Hotch left him with the task of calling Garcia, which he dreaded. Thankfully, she stayed focused on the case and, of course, Derek. He was overjoyed when Prentiss came back with an idea on how to contact the unsub, but he was pretty sure everyone's stomachs flipped in unison when JJ told the unsub she didn't relate to him.

Somehow, her speech worked. The unsub let Ellie go and holed up in a house with hostages.

He heard the disagreement between Hotch and Derek about whether or not Derek should go in. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Emily look over her shoulder, but he knew that in order to concentrate, he needed to stare at the house.  _'For all the times Derek yelled at me for putting myself in harm's way...'_  he brooded, as Derek ran into the house. He was concentrating so hard that it became difficult to tell how much time had passed and it was causing him to imagine the worst.

A gunshot rang out and he ran towards the house without a second thought. Eight more shots and he was sure his heart was on the verge of stopping completely. Just as they reached the door, Derek walked out without any new injuries. He knew the only reason he resisted the overwhelming instinct to grab Derek and never let him go was because he was in work mode.  _'Finish the case and then you can go home and work things out with Derek,'_  he reminded himself.

* * *

He was decently sure that things had calmed down.

The two agents most drained by the case, Morgan and JJ, were asleep. Prentiss appeared to be over her latest "groupie jealousy" incident, as she and Dave were quietly joking about something he'd probably rather not know about. Reid was in the back, absorbed in a new book. If it were one of his usual books, Aaron could have able to read his mood, but a new book could mean just about anything. He needed to be sure. Walking over to Reid, he sat down.

Reid looked up, somewhat confused. "Sir?"

"I was just wondering if you wanted a ride home tonight."

"Oh, no," Reid blushed slightly. "I think Morgan and I are going to watch a movie or something."

"Sounds like a good way to unwind. Let me know if he decides he's too tired. You know it's not out of my way to take you home."

Reid nods. "Thanks Hotch, I'm sure I'll be fine."

He moved back to his seat, a hint of a grin slipping onto his otherwise stoic face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Watch me jump around everywhere! Seriously, I had a hard time writing this...partially because I'm a perfectionist who is bad at lifting quotes and felt a strong urge to make sure I had "blocking" and emotional responses being as close to what they are in the episode as possible...but mostly because I didn't know how much of the episode I wanted/needed to include without going overboard. Episode-heavy chapters can make me zone out a bit and I didn't want people zoning out. So, this was a good 200-300 words longer, but I kinda took a machete to it.


	7. Baby Is A Bad Boy

He was enjoying yet another silent car ride with Spencer, but at least this time he was driving. In its own way, it was a comfortable silence, as if they both knew there was no need for them to get into an accident because one of them brought up the current state of...whatever was happening between them. When they finally arrived at Spencer's apartment, he headed to the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee, leaving Derek alone in the living room. He sat in an armchair, trying his best to figure out what the hell he was going to say and he was coming up with nothing. Spencer finally entered the room with two mugs of the hot liquid and handed one to Derek before sitting on the couch. The silence engulfed them, becoming far more uncomfortable as each second passed. Derek feared being the first to talk, but he knew he needed an answer to a fairly simple question.

"Do you hate me?"

"What?" A puzzled look came across Spencer's face before he shook his head. "No."

He closed his eyes. "I'm sorry. I should have known better than to go that fast and then you looked so...afraid. I hurt you and that scared me because one in eig..."

"Individuals observe cues within interactions," Spencer interrupted, his voice gaining speed with each word, "and then interpret those cues through the lens of their existing knowledge and because people use impressions they have of a person to infer implications regarding the information they have received, they..."

"Spencer," he gently prompted, waiting for an explanation.

"Sorry, umm...you saw the look on my face and assumed the worst because of your own experiences and especially because you view me as young and vulnerable. Derek, I might be...nervous about some things, but I'm not weak and you aren't a terrible person for getting caught up in the moment. I know you didn't mean to startle me...the look on y _our_ face told me so. Besides, I was far more scared that you'd never speak to me again."

He just hung his head. "It really is my worst fear that I'll..."

"Don't. Don't do this to yourself. Stop beating yourself up like you obviously intended to do at the gym this weekend. You stopped when I asked. You aren't him, not even close. You're a good man," Spencer comforted. "Come here," he requested, patting the couch.

He followed Spencer's instruction, but sat on the opposite end of the couch. Spencer immediately closed the space between them and rested his head on Derek's chest. "I've never felt safer than when you hold me," Spencer revealed and Derek's guilt slowly began dissipating. They stayed that way for awhile with Spencer was nuzzling him and he knew it was supposed to be comforting, but he still couldn't quite relax. When it didn't have the desired effect, he felt Spencer take a few deep breaths, before sitting up, and looking him in the eye.

"Okay, turn around."

He instantly tensed. "Umm, what?"

"Derek, you're obviously stressed and sore and apparently, I have magical fingers."

He hesitated, weighing the options. "Well...I guess a back rub does sound nice," he shrugged, turning his back to Spencer.

"Ahhh...and t-take off your shirt too?" Spencer squeaked. "It's just...well, it's easier that way."

 _'...god, I wonder if he knows how adorable it is when he does that?'_

"I suppose you know what's best," he chuckled and pulled his shirt over his head. He heard Spencer snap open a bottle and rub his hands together. The lotion was still cold when Spencer applied it, but it warmed with each stroke.  _'Whoever told this kid he has magic fingers wasn't kidding,'_ he mused. His breathing slowed as Spencer worked out each knot. With all the physical and emotional stress he'd dealt with over the past few days, it felt good to unwind and being touched in such a caring way was a luxury. He hadn't realized how much he'd needed this.

Spencer's hands moved up across Derek's shoulders and over to his biceps, rubbing the aching muscles there too. Warm breath lit upon his neck, reminding him of how closer Spencer was. Graceful fingers drifted down to his sides and then around to his abs, stroking them lightly, careful of the bruises. He leaned back into the touch as Spencer planted kisses along his neck, lightly nipping at his jaw.

"May I?" Spencer murmured, reaching for Derek's belt.

"Oh god yeah...I mean..."

"Trust me, I want to," Spencer purred.

With his belt and pants undone, Spencer reached inside, brushing his hand against Derek's eager cock. Derek inhaled sharply.

"Pretty Boy, you are...amazing."

"Mmmm...you're pretty  _impressive_  yourself," Spencer muttered, nibbling his ear and making his cock twitch.

Spencer grasped his shoulders and gently turned him so his back was against the couch again. He looked at Spencer with curious eyes, but Spencer just knelt in front of him and gave a gentle tug on Derek's pants and underwear.

"Please?" Spencer asked, his voice a perfect mix of needy and innocent.

"I, uh...if you do, I think you'll be a little over-dressed," he teased.

A befuddled look stared up at him, so he caressed Spencer's shirt as an explanation. A nervous grin came across the boy's face and a faint blush spread to his ears, but even with his hands slightly shaking, he nimbly removed his tie, cardigan, and shirt.  _'Did I got too far?'_ Derek worried. As quickly as the skittish behavior appeared, it evaporated when Spencer tugged at his pants again, so he lifted his hips and the rest of his clothing was swiftly removed.

A hand firmly gripped his cock, causing him to gasp slightly. He watched as Spencer bit his lower lip before he tentatively licked the entire length and gently sucked on the head. The sight of those licentious lips wrapped around his erection was almost more than he could bear and he groaned emphatically. Then those innocent brown eyes peered up at him from behind long lashes and he thought he might lose it right in that moment. Spencer started out cautiously taking in his length, almost timid in a way, and yet his tongue massaged the sensitive underside like an expert. He brought one hand up, carefully gripping Spencer's hair. Spencer hummed in delight and the vibrations shot waves of pleasure through him.

 _'I hope he knows I'm going to make him grow his hair out again.'_

Spencer picked up the pace and out of nowhere, Spencer raked his fingernails from his knee to his inner thigh and he knew he was losing control.

"Oh god baby...don't stop, so close..."

Spencer pulled up, letting go of his cock with a loud, slick pop. "Did you know that the term 'blow job' comes from Victorian times when 'blow' was slang for ejaculation and 'blowsy' was..."

"Reid!" he hissed in his most authoritative voice.

Spencer just smirked and swirled his tongue around the tip before deep throating his cock.  _'Wha...?'_  When he felt his balls being gently massaged, he knew he wasn't going to last much longer.

"Fuck, fuck, Spencer, I..." he cried, cumming hard against the back of Spencer's throat.

Spencer gazed at him with lustful eyes, swallowed seductively, and lapped up the cum he hadn't quite managed to swallow the first time.

 _'...if I hadn't just...holy shit...how the fuck is...?'_

"How...I mean, you're..." his brain attempted.

"Good? Giving oral is one of the few things I've done before."

"C'mere," he requested.

There was a hint of hesitation, but then Spencer straddled Derek and leaned in, pressing his own erection against Derek's groin and teasing the edges of Derek's ear with his teeth. "Yes?"

"You're more than good."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) Because I feel wrong not citing sources, information on miscommunication within relationships was lifted from: Relational Uncertainty And Relational Information Processing (Knobloch/Solomon 2005)
> 
> 2) Back when I was still writing chapter 2, I made vague notes about future story lines and other tidbits. One such tidbit was me trying to decide how sexually experienced Reid is and one of the things I decided was that he'd definitely given blowjobs and that he'd had...a lot of practice. Then someone on tumblr (justjasper?) posted that, in their head!canon, Reid would be really good at blow jobs (because of how much he licks his lips?) and I was just sitting there, thinking, "AGREED."


	8. All That's Left Are The Sticks And The Stones

"You're more than good," Derek answered, low and husky, before drawing him into a slow-burning kiss that quelled the fears he'd felt rising up inside. He wrapped his arms around Derek's neck as Derek's hands glided over his bare chest and back, finally settling on his hips. Derek deepened the kiss, putting him into a trance that quickly broke when Derek reached for his belt. Despite himself, he flinched and Derek immediately pulled away.

 _'...here I am with a man I literally trust with my life...doing things I've been fantasizing about for years and yet...'_

"Look at me," Derek instructed. When he did, Derek's concerned eyes made him wince. "Are you okay Spencer? I know you said you're not upset with me, but it's alright if..."

"No! It has nothing to do with the other night or even just you." He rolled off the other man's lap, his eyes on the floor. "I'm not exactly used to people  _wanting_  to touch me."

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Derek's flabbergasted face. "Really?" Derek asked, "I mean, you just said you had...practice and I can't understand how someone could resist the urge to touch you after...or really...even before..."

He shrugged. "It's to be expected when you find yourself being sexual almost exclusively with 'straight' men." He felt more than saw Derek flinch. "They were more than willing to let me touch them, but they generally didn't want to touch me back. Well, that and they wanted to do anal without a condom because apparently a condom signals that you're doing it on purpose and therefore, gay. I may have been young and naïve, but thankfully I didn't make that mistake."

Derek was silent for a moment, the wheels in his head obviously turning. "Generally. So what happened when they did touch you?"

 _'...yeah, he would look past the rambling and notice that slip up...shit...'_

He cleared his throat and licked his lips. "It doesn't matter," he lied.

"If that's true, why do you keep pulling away from me?"

"Because I...it was...oh fine," he sighed, unable to come up with an alternative explanation that made any sense at all. "When I was at Caltech, I tutored undergrads for extra cash...it's how I met a lot of the guys actually...they were closer to my age and I didn't have to go to a bar or anything. Anyway, just before I graduated, one of them confessed that he might be gay and umm...had heard I was, which wasn't technically true, but close enough I guess...either way, he wanted to test his theory." He paused, trying to find the right words. "I suppose me cumming in his mouth triggered his internalized homophobia and ahh...I'd been beaten up far worse before, so it wasn't too bad."

"Spencer, I..."

"It's okay." He saw doubt in Derek's eyes. "I'm a lot less jumpy than I used to be. And it's not that I think you're going to hurt me or that I don't trust you or that I don't want this...my body just has this annoying tendency to react in ways that are inconsistent with what I want. I guess I'm still not used to being desired because of how often it was used to trick me."

Derek's hand covered his and he fought the urge to pull away.

"Look, I might joke around a lot, but I'm serious when I say this...I want you and I want to make you feel good. If that means going slow and being gentle until you're comfortable with more, then that's what I'll do. But Spencer, you have to help by telling me what's okay and what's too much to handle. I need you to know you can always say no and I won't be mad or think less of you, okay?"

He bit the inside of his check. "Okay."

"I'd like to touch you now. May I?"

He nodded and Derek moved closer to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, pulling him to his chest. The familiar position caused his muscles to relax and his breathing to slow. He became vaguely aware that Derek's other hand was lightly brushing his hair, then his cheek, then his jawline before it carefully tilted his chin up. A chaste kiss graced his lips, full of understanding and comfort. He's the one to deepen the kiss, to bring a hand up to the nape of Derek's neck, to press his tongue against the seal of Derek's lips.

Derek's hands slid to his hips and he let himself be guided back into Derek's lap. His lips felt an absence as Derek's mouth moved to his ear, licking, nibbling, whispering reassurances. Cautious fingertips grazed his nipples, eliciting a quiet moan, his back arching slightly, and as Derek gently pinched his right nipple, a jolt of pleasure swept through his body, causing him to roll his hips. A few times, Derek's hands traveled farther south, touching his thighs or his belt, but always found a way to be back on his nipples before his brain reacted negatively.

 _'...classical conditioning...or is it operant...? oh who frakkin cares...'_

It still surprised him when Derek touched his belt and he thrust into the touch. The smile on Derek's face was intoxicating, and even though he wasn't entirely sure of himself, he started unbuckling his belt and let Derek help him out of the rest of his clothes. "God, Spencer, you're gorgeous," Derek had said before reaching between them to lazily stroke his erection. He whimpered, burying his face into Derek's neck, his hips bucking in time with Derek's movements. With all the buildup, it didn't take long for him to come, gasping Derek's name. He felt Derek prop him up with one hand, obviously intent on making sure that Spencer saw him licking the cum off his hand.

He sighed sleepily, content. "I'm really tired," he said, even though it was rather apparent.

"Okay, would you like me to stay?" Derek asked. "I mean, I can just stay on the couch in case you need something in the night."

"Stay here a minute," he requested, getting up and going into his bedroom. Spencer quickly cleaned up, changed into some sweat pants, grabbed a pair Derek left the last time, and returned, holding them out, his eyes avoiding Derek's naked body.

"Thanks man," Derek said, putting them on before Spencer grabbed his wrist and led him into the bedroom. "No, thank you," he finally responded.

Derek kissed his forehead. "Let's get some rest."

When he fell asleep, he was nestled as tightly as humanly possible to Derek's chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) Sooooooooo...there are FOUR drafts of this chapter in my notebook (plus the major editing I do once I actually type it up makes this basically the 5th version), the first one being completely non-angsty (didn't feel right given how jumpy I'd been writing Reid) and another being super-angsty (but I didn't really want to whump on Reid). Somehow, the fluff has been in every version, heh.
> 
> 2) Note to self: if you stopped reading other people's fanfic for hours at a time (and constantly checking your CM rss feed), you'd have a new chapter written yourself. Also, looking at lyrics for possible chapter titles when you already have 3 possible ones for the current chapter you're writing and 56+ in a list for later...seriously.
> 
> 3) The next chapter assumes that if they have a case that lasts multiple days in which it appears that no one sleeps at all because they don't even mention a hotel room (I dunno how they do it and still have almost perfect aim, seriously), Hotch gives them a "do paperwork from home" day. Or at least a half a day off. They're in Cali for 3 nights, 4 days. I think a long weekend (case starts on Mon morning and is done by Thurs afternoon/evening) is well deserved.
> 
> 4) Despite being a psych major, I still never fully understood the difference between operant and classical conditioning. Thankfully, Reid's brain is somewhat malfunctioning so that I don't have to figure out which it is. :-P Also, for the non-scifi geeks, "frak" is a word coined on Battlestar Galactica, so that the characters could swear without the censors getting in tizzy. I'm saving Reid saying fuck for later and found it appropriate since he talked about his BSG/philosophy paper a few chapters back (and ironically (?), in "Exit Wounds," Garcia uses "frak" when her phone goes dead).


	9. Hungry Still For More

He'd listened to Spencer's breathing slow until it was a deep, even rumble in his chest.

 _'...and here I thought it was just some body image issue...Christ, obviously the flag pole incident plays into it, but..._ often _, he said often...how many other times did it happen?'_  he worried.  _'I always knew Spencer went through some pretty terrible shit growing up, hell, even just the past few years...fuck, a person who goes through that much shit and is still as great as Spencer...that kid has got to be pretty damn near indestructible,'_ He smiled a little _._   _'I just wish he'd stop acting like it...oh well, at least he trusts me enough to...let go...god his cum tasted so good...so perfect...'_  he thought as he drifted to sleep.

When he awoke, he realized not only was Spencer still sleeping, but that he hadn't stirred from a single nightmare either.  _'He probably hasn't slept this well in weeks,'_ he assumed as he carefully extracted himself from Spencer and grabbed both their phones, smiling to himself.  _'Now there's one less thing to accidentally wake him up...'_

He was more disappointed than shocked to find that the little food actually in refrigerator was no longer edible. _'Well, there is that bodega down the street...'_  he remembered, putting on his jeans, grabbing Spencer's keys, and heading out the door. Just as he re-entered the apartment, arms full of groceries, he heard his cell phone ringing on the counter.  _'...fuck, I thought I took that with me...'_  he thought angrily. He put the bags down and rushed over, hoping it hadn't woken Spencer.

"Hello?" he answered, trying not to sound too out of breath.

"...Derek?" Garcia's voice wavered enough to make him concerned.

"Hey Baby Girl, you okay? You sound a little...upset."

"Oh god, no, I'm fine, I'm just confused. Why are  _you_  answering Spencer's phone?" she asked, intensely suspicious. He looked down at the counter, slowly realizing that the phone in his hands didn't feel as beat up as it should and suddenly felt the weight of his own phone in his pocket.  _'...fuckin FBI standard issue bullcrap...'_

"Well, you know how Spencer cut his hair?" he started, trying to come up with something close to the truth.

Garcia laughed heartily. "Of course! Who do you think he called when he realized what a mess he'd made of himself?"

"Wait, what?"

"Umm...he cut it himself first before realizing that he'd made a poor life decision. He called me, probably because you weren't picking up that day," she teased. "Or because he thinks I have awesome hair."

"Geez, okay, didn't know that," he paused. "Well, obviously his life had been chaotic recently and when he asked me to stay the night, I did cuz I was kinda worried about him."

"Oh no! Is he alright?" she asked, slightly concerned.

"Yeah, yeah, he's ahh...he's  _still_  sleeping."

"That's...wow...hmm..." He braced himself for a joke that never came. "Okay, well, when sleeping beauty wakes up, remind him that he owes me a black eye and I'm cashing it in tonight at 7."

He frowned. "Do I wanna know?"

"Probably not," she chuckled.

"Fine. You better behave yourself tonight," he warned.

"So possessive," she giggled. "I'll try my best, but no promises sugar."

Hanging up the phone, he pinched the bridge of his nose.  _'...that girl is gonna be the death of me some day...'_

* * *

For a few seconds, he was alarmed. The bed was empty and cold and not knowing why Derek wasn't there made his brain ruminate on all the possible negative reasons why he wasn't waking up to Derek's arm draped over him. But as he slowly slipped out of his sleepy daze, his senses alerted him to a few things he'd missed.  _'Coffee. Sizzling...bacon.'_  He sighed happily.  _'Breakfast.'_ He padded out to the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Hey Pretty Boy, I hoped the coffee would wake you. You slept well, eh?"

"Better than I have in awhile," he grinned as Derek set his breakfast in front of him.

"Good," Derek said. "Now eat up...we've got some things to discuss."

He tensed and his eyes narrowed. "What  _kind_  of things?" Derek frowned, obviously hurt, so he relaxed, scratching the back of his head. "Sorry, first instinct."

Derek waved it off. "Mmm...things like...how I didn't realize it was your phone ringing until I answered it and confused Garcia." His eyes widened, his hands twittering on the counter. "Don't worry, since I wasn't sure what you'd want, I didn't say much and I didn't tell her anything that wasn't true," Derek reassured. "Also, I'm not sure what she meant, but she said to tell you that she's cashing in a black eye that you owe her tonight at 7. Spencer, please tell me you're not in a fight club."

He laughed. "Coffee. A black eye is regular coffee with two shots of espresso. Not that she'll get it that late, I hope...I think she likes saying I 'owe her a black eye' because it freaks people out."

Derek rolled his eyes. "Well, that actually makes perfect sense. So what do you wanna do?"

Thinking about it, he knew there was really only one answer. "I know we should keep things quiet for awhile, but I don't see any way around not telling Garcia."

"Are you sure?" Derek asked.

"Come on, you know how she is. She's stubborn and persistent, especially when she gets an idea in her head," he pointed out. "And I don't mind if you don't mind." Derek shook his head as he continued, "Besides, I don't have proof, but I'm decently sure that Garcia told her friend to call me 'pretty boy' and report back to her on how I reacted...and even if she didn't and that was a complete coincidence, it does appear that he told her about about the hickey you gave me."

Derek's eyes narrowed.

"Oh, seriously?" he questioned, trying not to laugh. "Stop looking at me like I went on a date. I wouldn't have even met Garcia's friend, the  _hair stylist_ , if you had picked up the phone," he gently teased.

Derek smirked. "Okay, okay. So uh...you've still got a good nine hours before you have to be anywhere..."

He smiled innocently. "Derek Morgan, are you telling me not to finish this lovely breakfast you made me?"

He didn't wait for an answer before he started pulling Derek back to his bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) This chapter was written almost entirely in my head while driving home from work and then on my computer, with very little notes in my notebook, which hasn't happened with any other chapters. I'm not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing.
> 
> 2) Having a friend who just started working at Starbucks means I keep getting lots of random tidbits about coffee, such as when he randomly told me about what a black eye is and I just sat there thinking, "Thank you, you have no idea how much you are helping me with my fanfic." XD
> 
> 3) With all the tackling that Morgan does, obviously his phone is going to be in pretty poor shape, besides the fact he's probably really rough on things, whereas I assume that Spencer's phone probably looks like he just took it out of the box. Yep.
> 
> 4) Just started watching "JJ" to see when that case starts (I think "JJ" will be chapter 11)...on a Monday bitches (and looks like late morning/early afternoon too, but I wanna see if they give me any more clues before I run with that). Awesome. Thanks CM for matching up perfectly with the timeline I'm making in my head (minus the whole "The Internet is Forever" thing...lol).


	10. Just Ask The Question

She arrived at The Bitter End a half hour early. She didn't want Reid to chicken out if he saw she wasn't there. Besides, being early gave her plenty of time to think.

She'd known they both had an affinity for men. Reid had accidentally come out to her when she drove him home because he was drunk as a skunk. Watching the baby genius explain, in his actually-did-you-know voice, that her attempts at setting him up "with a nice girl" were almost pointless because he was "a Kinsey 5" was incredibly adorable, especially because he'd slurred every single word. Despite protests that he didn't want blind dates, she'd adjusted her tactics to better suit his tastes in case he ever decided he did want a date. Morgan, on the other hand, well, she'd caught him at a gay club. He'd been practically  _fucking_  some lanky young thing on the dance floor when she walked in with some friends. Once he finally spotted her gawking, his explanation had been flimsy at best. She'd never pressed the issue, but that was when she realized that Morgan probably had some UST for Reid.

Oh yes, she'd definitely asked Tony to call Reid "pretty boy," but it was mostly because she was tired of looking for signs that he felt the same way as Morgan did. She hadn't expected Reid to be sporting a hickey or for Tony to tell her he was quite sure that Reid had a boyfriend.  _'Who's the mystery man who's marked the Junior G-Man as his own?'_  she'd wondered.  _'And how long have they been going at it? Christ...he coulda just told me when said he needed some lovin...'_  Then the case happened and Morgan had yelled at her and in the rush of everything, she'd almost forgotten.

Almost.

She'd called to set up a coffee date, knowing that was the most likely way to get him to meet her somewhere, as long as she feigned innocence, and then once he arrived, she could hopefully get him to dish about the new man in his life. To say she was a little thrown off by Morgan answering Reid's phone would be an understatement. Add to that, Morgan was out of breath from god knows what, he'd admitted to spending the night there, and then said Reid was  _still_  sleeping. Not making a sexual joke about all of that was quite possibly one of the most difficult things she'd done in quite some time.

 _'There he is,'_  she thought as Reid arrived right on time, looking vaguely anxious. "Over here hunny," she called, smiling sweetly.  _'Nope, this is the most difficult thing I've done lately,'_  she mused, trying not to giggle at the slightly pained way Reid walked over and sat gingerly on the stool.

"So, uh... Hi."

"Hey yourself." He stared at her as if she might do a multitude terrible things to him. "Reid, if you keep looking at me like I'm an unsub who's kidnapped you, I might have to take you captive on principle alone," she smirked. Reid's nervous stare turned into an angry glare. "Well, I'm not sure that's any better, but it'll do. So...how'd you like Tony?"

His dazed face said he obviously wasn't expecting that question and a slightly pink-ish hue grew across his face. "Ahh...he was...nice, helpful."

"Yeah, he's both those things. Hot too," she prompted.

"I can't disagree with that assessment if only because his features are quite symmetrical, but we both know you didn't call me here to talk about Tony," he said, gaining some confidence.

"That's my baby genius," she smiled. "How's my stud muffin been since the case?"

"Oh, he's been pretty... _happy_  and you know ahh...he's not exactly... _yours_ now," he grinned smugly, obviously proud of himself for being vague and direct all at once.

"Dr. Reid, you're fun. Well, I'm so happy you two lovebirds got together. I think you're gonna be really good for each other."

"Thanks, I hope so." Reid smiled awkwardly. "We're umm...thinking that we should keep it under wraps...for now anyway."

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "No worries, mum's the word."

"Thanks Garcia, you're the best."

"Loving the flattery Reid, but don't kid yourself. It's a team of profilers that you're talking about trying to fool and you know they pick up on these things better than me. I mean, Rossi and Prentiss were dating for how long before I noticed?"

"Hey, it was before they officially told the team," he protested. She stared at him, waiting. "Okay, okay...four months, two weeks, and five days," he admitted.

"And how long did it take you?" she asked pointedly.

Reid grimaced. "Eleven days."

"Look, I'm not saying that because I figured it out so soon that you two haven't been subtle because to be honest, I just kinda stumbled upon it. And obviously, the rest of the team will play along and pretend to be utterly blind until you finally tell them, just like you did with Rossi and Prentiss. I just want to remind you that it's not a big deal because most of them probably already know and are just as happy as I am about it."

"Umm...thanks for the reminder, I guess. And Garcia?" She nodded and he continued, "Please don't  _ever_  tell Derek that I agreed with you on Tony's appearance. You should have seen the look he gave me when I told him Tony called me pretty boy and asked if I had a boyfriend."

She laughed. "Yes, yes, of course darlin. Now...I think I owe you a drink."

"Wait, wasn't it the other way around?"

"Are you really turning down free coffee?" she asked, bemused.

Reid grinned. "No, actually, you're right. You do owe me coffee."

"That's what I thought," she responded as she got up to order his favorite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) Somewhat short chapter, at least in terms of my recent word counts (the first chapter was about this long). Mostly because I thought it'd break up the flow too much if I included more.
> 
> 2) Have you ever tried to look up coffee shops near Quantico? Because all it was giving me was Starbucks and Starbucks is good and all, but I don't think that's where Garcia and Reid would seriously meet up.
> 
> 3) I'm going to assume that Garcia would totally use UST rather than "unresolved sexual tension" in her head. Because she's Garcia damnit. Or something. (Still really insecure about this chapter, guh)
> 
> 4) What? I skipped nine hours of sexy times? Silly, did you think this was PWP? ;-) But I kinda like the mystery.


	11. "Dame." "Nani?" "Ikimasu."

He was surprised at how many orgasms he could have in just one weekend.

It wasn't as if they'd stayed in bed the entire time either. Not only had he successfully dealt with Garcia over coffee, but Derek took him out to a new Mediterranean restaurant afterwards and the next morning, Spencer had convinced him to go to a neuroscience lecture at George Mason.

 _'He didn't complain a bit or even act particularly bored,'_ he grinned, as they entered Derek's house.  _'Definitely deserves a reward...'_

Derek cocked his head. "What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?"

"Oh, nothing," he innocently replied before licking his lips and gripping Derek's belt, pulling the other man closer.

Derek chuckled. "I think I might like your definition of 'nothing.'"

* * *

After the weekend they'd had, Derek felt a little queasy when he heard about the new case.

A 19 year old girl, Kate, had left a club Friday night with two boys she didn't know and had been missing ever since. It was Monday and the boys had been in custody since Saturday, but they'd easily repeated the same story multiple times and the police were running out of time - it was two and a half days since anyone had even seen Kate and no one knew if she was even alive at this point.

 _'...while I spent my weekend practically drowning in happiness, someone else was spending the same time in pure hell...'_ he grimly thought.

* * *

He knew it was strange to dread the end of a case, but that knowledge didn't stop the feelings from drifting to the surface.

Before the case, JJ and Hotch had been stuck discussing  _something_  with Strauss. For twenty minutes. With the blinds closed. When he suggested that perhaps JJ was asking for a raise, it wasn't because he believed it, though it was obvious some of his teammates didn't get that. It was what he needed - a stupidly optimistic statement to use as a mantra to keep any distracting worries at bay while they were working the case. There was no way he was going to risk a case, potentially risk someone's life, because of fears he had regarding non-work related issues, even if it meant sounding embarrassingly naïve. The mantra appeared to be effective – they'd found Kate alive and ensured that the unsubs would be punished – but it left him dreading the moment that reality would rear its ugly head.

After they arrived back to the office, they'd all watched as Hotch walked out of the conference room and it became obvious that JJ had not "asked for a raise." They tried not to stare as she stayed there, filling out paperwork alone, before joining them in the bullpen.

"They can't just take you away," he mumbled, breathless.

But they could and they were. He knew there were words, but he didn't quite hear them, his mind reeling. Instead, he felt the emotions: Emily – pissed at the politics, defeated, already compartmentalizing; Derek – barely controlled frustration with a hint of betrayal; Rossi – calm and logical, trying give it a positive spin. And himself?

"They can't just take you away," he repeated, his lip quivering as he struggled to keep his composure.  _'...breaking, abandoned, lost, scared...numb...'_ JJ patted his shoulder, a knowing look of concern on her face causing him to shift uncomfortably and avert his eyes. Once she'd gone to see Garcia, he caught Derek staring at him. Derek nodded, probably imperceptible to everyone else, a silent answer to a question he didn't even have to ask.

* * *

They'd barely made it into his house when Spencer ambushed him, harsh lips crashing against his. Not that he particularly minded – he'd quickly learned that Spencer taking charge was a definite turn on and he figured it probably helped the kid feel secure enough to stay focused on feeling rather than thinking.

In a matter of minutes, Spencer had roughly tugged off their shirts, shoved him against a wall, then another before pulling him to the bedroom. "Fuck you're sexy," he crooned as Spencer bit his neck hard enough to leave bruises. Fingernails dug into his back and ass, one hand moving to grope his half-hard erection through his pants. Spencer's pace became increasingly frantic – there was no overthinking, no seconding guessing, just movement and action. It was undoubtedly hot, so fucking hot, but he was having trouble ignoring the underlying implications.

As Spencer began to remove Derek's pants, he pinned Spencer against the edge of the bed, gripping his hands above his head. "Spencer..." he whispered.

"Fuck me," Spencer lustfully demanded while rolling his hips harshly against Derek's body.

He bit back a groan and fought to keep his own hips still against the movement. He'd never heard Spencer use the word "fuck," much less be so direct about what he wanted, and it made restraining himself all the more difficult.

"Spencer, you've got to..." he tried before he was interrupted.

"Please. Need this.  _Need you_."

"Me too," he reassured, "but slow down a bit...I'm not going anywhere."

Spencer calmed beneath him, so he released his hands, stepped out of the rest of his clothing, and climbed onto the bed. "C'mon Pretty Boy," he prompted and though it took a moment, Spencer joined him. Helping Spencer out of his pants and underwear, their eyes locked as he lowered his mouth to Spencer's erection, teasing it with tiny swipes of tongue. He continued slowly torturing Spencer until he was writhing, pleading, begging for more. His mouth easily slid onto Spencer's cock, his cheeks hollowing before setting a steady pace.

"Mmm...Derek," Spencer breathed, rocking into the touch. With a finger, he circled the edges of Spencer's entrance, earning a pleased whimper. Spencer swiftly produced the bottle of lube from the nightstand and he stilled his mouth for a moment to spread some on his fingers before continuing his ministrations and pushing one finger, then the next, inside. "More," Spencer panted, "I need more." Derek hummed in response and added a third finger. Spencer's back arched from a combination of the vibrations and the fingers brushing his prostate. "Derek...not what I...fuck me."

Derek's cock twitched beneath him. "Are you sure? It's your..."

"First time, I know," Spencer finished. "And I also know what I want."

For a moment, he felt conflicted. He was still worried that Spencer was pushing himself to avoid dealing with JJ's departure, but he was also starting to realize that maybe forgetting for awhile wasn't such a bad thing. "Condoms are in the top drawer," he stated. When Spencer handed one to him, he'd rolled it on and slicked himself with plenty of lube. "It's gonna feel different than my fingers. Lemme know if it's too much, okay?" Spencer only nodded in response.

He pushed against the tight resistance as gently as he could, pausing when Spencer's face contorted with pain and only pushing farther when Spencer raggedly urged him to continue. Once he was fully sheathed in Spencer's hot, tight channel, he stilled to taste his neck and murmur reassurances into his skin, letting Spencer fully adjust to the new sensations. Spencer tentatively thrust his hips up, panting and mewling in pleasure, giving the permission Derek needed to move again. He thrust, steady and slow, changing the angle until he found the sweet spot. "R-right there...harder, please  _harder_ ," Spencer cried out, knuckles turning white from fisting the sheets. "You like that?" he growled low in his throat as his thrusts became faster and deeper. Eyes half-lidded with lust and sin stared up at him and he knew they were both close to coming undone. Gripping Spencer's hip with one hand, he stroked his cock with the other, causing Spencer to buck harder beneath him.

"Derek, I-I'm..." was all Spencer could manage before his orgasm hit, cum spurting onto their chests, muscles tightening around Derek's cock. A few more rough thrusts were all it took for him to come, collapsing next to his lover.

* * *

"Did you mean it?" he asked when Derek laid back down after letting Clooney inside.

"That you're sexy? Hell yeah," Derek replied, cocky as ever.

"No," he bit his lower lip. "You won't leave?"

Derek paused and for a second, Spencer panicked.  _'...shit, shouldn't have asked, should have just let it be...why can't you leave things be? shit, shit, shit...'_

"Spencer, I know I don't have the best record when it comes to relationships," Derek started, "but I was never friends with any of them for 8 years before hooking up. You mean a lot more to me than anyone I've ever been with."

"Oh," he breathed, ashamed of his fear.

"Besides, I've seen you at your worst and I didn't walk away, not even when you tried to push  _everyone_  away. You know all my faults and dark secrets and you've stuck around too. I'm pretty sure we're going to be stuck with each other for life, even if we do break up," Derek stated, winking.

"Yeah, being friends before a relationship as well as receiving more resources such as emotional support are significant predictors of whether or not people...wait...break up?" He stared for a second, processing the connotations of Derek's statement before grinning. "You never asked if we could go steady in the first place," he teased, sticking out his tongue.

"Spencer Reid, would you do me the honor of being my boyfriend?"

He could hardly contain his laughter and a smile spread across Derek's face. "Of course I will, Derek Morgan."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) This is the only chapter where the title isn't song lyrics. The full title translates to "Don't." "What?" "Go." and it holds a tremendous amount of meaning for me that I can't even begin to explain, so I'll just thank my lil roja for permission to use it and leave it at that.
> 
> 2) CM writers fucked up their own timeline in this episode. It started with me wanting to know if their case started on a Monday or a Tuesday and I could give you a detailed analysis of their fuck up, but here's the short version – when you do the math, the police would have picked up the unsubs at 2:30 am on Saturday, at the latest. Which is around the time that the unsubs left the club/were with Kate at the inlet. At first, I thought Joe had botched a line in the first scene or there was too much sunlight in Hotch's office, but later they mention the number of hours in custody (65) AND give us an actual time to work with two scenes later (7:30 pm). *sigh* You don't even want to know how many times I watched this episode/how many pages of notes there are of me trying to figure out this time paradox. But yeah, the episode does start on Monday, around 2:30 pm. And that's the SHORT explanation...lol.
> 
> 3) Speaking of timelines, I was trying to figure out when Morgan and Reid joined the BAU/met and that was confusing and harder than expected. In "LDSK," Hotch mentions that Reid has been making his life lousy for 3 years (2002), but then in "Tabula Rosa," everyone treats Reid like it's one of his first cases (2004). Then I couldn't find anything about when Morgan joined, except one website that said 2002 but gave no reason/proof. "Tabula Rosa" and "Profiler, Profiled" didn't turn up clues and I couldn't think of any other episode that might help. So unless anyone can tell me otherwise, I'm gonna believe they both joined the BAU and met in 2002, hence knowing each other for 8 years.
> 
> 4) I'm probably rivaling Rossi in cockblocking abilities with the end of the last chapter and the beginning of this one. Almost cockblocked you in the middle too, hahahaha. I'm such a jerk.


	12. It's The Quiet Of The Storm Approaching That I Fear The Most

When he really thought about it, the past couple of months had been great.

One of the first things he'd done when he'd gone to see Henry was tell JJ and Will about his budding relationship and they were just as pleased and reassuring as Garcia. Ellie Spicer had run away from her abusive foster family and Derek had reconnected her with her mom, something Spencer was immensely proud of. For stability and at his sponsor's recommendation, he'd started making more friends outside of the BAU with a little help from Garcia. The letter to his mom announcing his relationship had caused quite the stir – according to her doctors, she'd been alternatively pleased and overprotective, but was always proud. Derek had even gone with him to the reenactment of the 1930's phantasmagoria and seemed to enjoy it, despite the older man's protests and the fact that he wasn't very into Halloween in general.

Unfortunately, all the good memories didn't keep him from worrying, especially on nights like this. It didn't matter that he'd been the one to suggest that not tell the team right away or even that this was just one of the ways he'd suggested they go about keeping up appearances. He'd assumed it wouldn't bother him – Derek was  _his_ , Derek came home to  _him_ , and Derek had definitely toned it down for  _him_  – but he'd come to realize that he was just never going to get used to watching his boyfriend dance with women at the bars.

It didn't help that he'd  _always_  found these outings with the team to be bordering on boring. He didn't drink much, didn't dance, and generally felt entirely out of place. Occasionally, there was someone interesting that he struck up a conversation with and hell, if the other agents got drunk enough, there was sure to be some amusing antics.

 _'So far, this outing definitely belongs in the "boring me to sleep" category,'_ he thought.

To make matters worse, he wasn't quite sure why they were doing this anymore. Garcia knew. It had become apparent that Hotch knew – why else had he constantly split them unless there was very little chance of danger? Not to mention the little smile he'd caught slipping onto his boss's face a few times. In fact, Emily had been giving him knowing smiles as well. If Emily knew and Hotch knew, there was no way that Rossi didn't know. And when he logically thought about it, no one on their team would ever bring it up with Strauss unless it was negatively affecting their work. It just wasn't making sense anymore and he'd wondered if it ever had.

Glancing over, he noticed some blonde push the redhead out from between Derek's legs so she could grind her ass into his boyfriend's crotch. They were shooting each other dirty looks, even though he was pretty sure they were actually friends.  _'...if I left now, would Derek notice? would he stop holding back and be more receptive to flirtations? would he take her home? would he take_ them _home? would he fuck either of them? both?'_

He sighed, trying to rein in his fears. He knew these outings were supposed to be fun and stress-relieving, but more often than not, they were having quite the opposite effect. He looked up just in time to see Derek move the new girl's hand away from the front of his pants. Even though Derek was being good and doing the right thing, when Derek caught his eye, he could only manage an almost sickly smile.

He jumped when he felt an unfamiliar hand on his shoulder, but relaxed as a familiar voice asked, "You okay Spencer?" He turned his head and his eyes met Tony's.

"Oh, uh, hey Tony. I'm...bars aren't my thing."

Tony chuckled briefly. "Mmm...no offense honey, but I would have never pegged you as the sports bar type. I've never been stupid enough to invite you to one, have I?"

"True. I'm glad bars aren't your  _only_  'thing' or else I'd never see you," he joked.

"So why are you here? Seems like all you're doing is sippin' on soda and boring holes into that  _gorgeous_  straight man up there. What would your boyfriend think?" Tony chided.

He laughed heartily. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind as much as you'd think...and I'm here with my team."

"Oh, is Garcia here?" Tony asked.

"I don't know, Kevin might have taken her home already. Do you want me to check?"

Tony rested his hand on Spencer's forearm before leaning forward in a mock whisper, "You know I'd rather talk to a handsome, intelligent man such as yourself over a woman any day, even if she's one of my best friends and even if that  _pretty boy_  is already taken."

It was the wink as Tony pulled back that made the color on his cheeks deepen. "Tony, we talked about you referring to me as a 'pretty boy,' didn't we?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah...only the boy toy is allow to do that," Tony said, rolling his eyes. "So when am I going to meet this delectable hunk of man you've been hiding from me?"

"Eh, maybe tonight...if you convince me that you can control yourself," he grinned.

* * *

He'd caught a glimpse of Spencer talking to a guy at the bar and felt relieved.

Spencer got bored easily and a bored Spencer often became a fretful Spencer – any little thing that he could worry about tended to invade his head and usually got blown out of proportion. It was why he wasn't able to get too upset that Spencer always came to the bar when he did, seemingly unable to trust that he wouldn't cheat on him. Despite his history with women, he'd never cheated on anyone so he didn't think it was a valid concern, but he knew Spencer sitting at home alone... _imagining_  would be far worse than seeing the reality and he had hope that watching him behave as he was supposed to would help the younger man trust him more. Besides that, all he really wanted was for Spencer to be able to relax and have a good time; their lives were stressful enough as it was.

But when he glanced over a second time, Spencer looked enamored – flushed but laughing, face animated and engaged, leaning in to the other man's touch – and then that guy leaned in to whisper something. Spencer blushed further, but his mouth and eyebrows were self-assured and teasing, bordering on flirtatious. Derek's throat went dry.

 _'...do not overreact, do not overreact...look at what you're doing, what Spencer puts up with...Spencer's not doing anything wrong, they're just talking...but he's_ mine _...no, no, do not overreact...you know better, he'll just get pissed off...pull it together damnit...fuuuuuck...'_

Despite all the convincing arguments the rational part of his brain was making, when the song ended, he stalked off the dance floor and towards the other end of the bar, slamming back a shot and ignoring the looks he was likely getting from the rest of his teammates. He watched them for a bit and Spencer so absorbed in this...stranger that he didn't even look up from his conversation to find Derek.

Apparently, the jealousy was far greater than he'd assumed because before he'd really noticed, he'd already walked up behind Spencer, stopping close enough to be heard, but still mindful to keep his distance.

"Hey Pretty Boy, you doin' okay? You were looking tired earlier," he asked as Spencer cocked his head in surprise, his eyes wide and cheeks still flushed.

"Oh, I don't know about that one...I'm rather sure this this pretty boy's been looking  _fiiiine_  all night long," the stranger smirked.

Spencer glared at the stranger. "Tony, this is Derek, my  _boyfriend_." Then he turned around, grimacing. "Derek, Tony is a  _friend_  of mine...Garcia introduced us."

"Mmm...nice to meet you," he said in clipped, sarcastic tone. "Reid, I'm gonna head out. Do you want a ride?"

* * *

Now he was pissed. He'd been having a good conversation with Tony about Tony's most recent terrible date that he actually wanted to continue and he could see the "subtle" signs of jealousy rising off Derek like a heat wave. That alone made him want to refuse even more, just to be defiant and show the older man how ridiculous he was being.

 _'...because how is it that he gets to be jealous of me_ talking _to someone when he spends the entire night grinding his hips against multiple strange women? what the frak gives him any right to act like this?'_

"No, I think I'm good. Tony,  _you_  can give me a ride home, right?"

"Uh...yeah...sure Spencer," Tony managed under the intimidating glare that Derek usually reserved for unsubs.

"Well. Fine," Derek snapped, his eyes dark and narrow. "I guess I'll just see you at work tomorrow."

"I guess so," he bitterly replied as Derek turned and walked out the door.

He caught Tony staring at him like he had five heads. "Why the frak are you looking at me like that?"

"Spencer, I'm not even going to try to understand how your boy is allowed to hump ladies all night while you aren't allowed to talk to a man at the bar, but the sassy gay friend in me has to ask – what, what, what are you doing?"

"Huh?"

"It's obvious that things aren't right and you and your man need to have a talk, but I would like to continue being your friend and that's not gonna go down so well if your boyfriend's worried I'm...encroaching on his territory."

"I'm not..." he protested.

"...anyone's property, obviously. Don't give me the dumb act...you're smart enough to know what I mean. Admittedly, I didn't help with the 'pretty boy' comment, but I kinda wanted to smack him around for being a jackass and went for the verbal assault instead. But darlin, that is one  _fiiiine_  looking man and if he is even a tenth as good of a man as you and Garcia have built him up to be, you're kickin your own balls right now."

He was silent for a moment, processing everything that had happened.

"I know you're right," he sighed. "Just give me a minute to cool off." Tony nodded.

He didn't want to turn around; he could already feel Hotch's death glare in his bones.

* * *

"Prentiss, I swear if you don't take Reid to Morgan's  _right now_ , I'll let Strauss know you were the one who threw up right outside her office during her lunch break last month," Hotch threatened.

She blanched. "That wasn't even me and you know it," she argued, looking to Dave for support who shrugged.  _'Typical Dave,'_  she thought, slightly annoyed.

"Yeah, well, I feel like you don't want to explain what I actually found you doing that day during lunch...in Dave's office," Hotch smirked.

"Oh. Ooooh, that is a low blow, even for you." She stood up and continued, "You know, I would have done it without you fake threatening me, but thanks for reminding me of how enjoyable that day was," she grinned, winking at Dave and catching a slightly embarrassed look from Hotch before she walked towards Reid.

"Reid!" she called, "Time to go."

"Umm...Tony here was going to..." Reid started.

"Nope. Use that genius brain of yours and imagine what Morgan is going to assume if you show up with this man." She saw his brain making the connections and waited, hand on her hip and a knowing look in her stare. "I'm taking you, Hotch's orders," she stated.

"Yeahhhh, I shouldn't argue with that. Uh, see you around Tony," he muttered, giving the man his trademark wave.

Once they'd made it to her car, she stated, "Obviously I'm taking you to Derek's and you're not going to give me bullshit about it."

He sighed. "Everyone knows, don't they?"

"Yep. Hell, I'm pretty sure Hotch knew before you two did. That man is a ridiculously good profiler."

Reid just stared out the window for a long time and she assumed he was done talking.

"You could have told us how absurd we were being," he said, startling her.

"I dunno...it was kinda fun watching you squirm," she joked. He angrily huffed in response, so she got serious. "We knew what it was like to want to tell everyone on our own terms and we wanted you guys to feel comfortable enough with each other and your relationship before you told us."

"Yeah, but it was still kinda stupid."

"Maybe," she responded, pulling into Derek's driveway, "but don't tell me about it. Go tell him."

* * *

He'd watched Emily drive away before starting up to the front door, which was unsurprisingly locked. When he knocked and no one answered, he just assumed the other man was pissed at him. After all, his truck was in the driveway, so he let himself in with the key Derek had given him just after Halloween.

The house was empty, except for Clooney who hadn't been fed. Even though he knew it was far more likely that he'd be randomly kidnapped than Derek, it was hard not to panic until he noticed Derek's motorcycle was gone.

 _'...maybe he just needed to go for a drive to cool down...he definitely didn't leave to go pick up women at a bar, right? I mean, that would just be...oh shit, oh shit...oh please no..._ stop _, he's just cooling down, really, seriously...ahhhhhh...no, but what if he is?'_

He curled up in Derek's bed, pulling all the sheets around him, soaking in the other man's smell in an attempt to comfort himself. Between the worrying and fighting the tears that kept threatening to fall, it was a wonder he even fell asleep that night.

Waking up to an empty house hurt even more than he'd expected and he'd expected it to hurt worse than the time he got infected with anthrax. And then there was the reality that he didn't know if he could make it to work on time if he took public transit. So he sucked up his pride and made a phone call.

"Garcia?" he nearly sobbed.

"Reid, honey, what's wrong? Who do I need to beat up?"

"No one," he choked, "but just...you're not too hung over to give me a ride, right?"

"Yeah, Kevin pulled me out early enough. Did your car break down again?" she asked.

"No, I'm...I'm at Derek's," he stated. When she started asking why and how, he finally broke down and cried. "J-just come g-get me, o-okay?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) Super long chapter again! There was actually more, but I decided it could wait until the next chapter, heh.
> 
> 2) I don't know if they made it back in time for the tickets Reid had to the phantasmagoria that he was so excited about at the beginning of episode 6...buuuuuuuut...yeah. I mean, Reid was so excited about it and it had science magic...how could I not include it?
> 
> 3) Seriously, for episodes 3-6, Morgan and Reid NEVER go out in the field together. In 7, which this chapter is set just after, they go out once and it's a situation in which there is no danger (they do, however, end up having to put their vests on to go from wherever they are to where the team determined the unsubs were hiding in...7, I think it was).
> 
> 4) If you haven't seen Sassy Gay Friend, go look it up on youtube (Hamlet is hilarious, Romeo & Juliet and Othello aren't bad, but the later ones are terrible, so I pretend like they don't exist).


	13. So Low For How High?

When he woke up the next morning, he felt everything and nothing. There was guilt and shame. There was sadness and heartache. There was emptiness and fear.

Before Derek left, he took a final look at the physical manifestation of his emotions, words, and actions from the previous night.

Then all he felt was regret.

* * *

Since the pair had been trying to keep their relationship a secret, it wasn't surprising for Morgan to walk in alone, even if he did seem...off. It was, however, strange for Reid to walk in, red eyed and grim, with Garcia not far behind him. If that wasn't enough, she was being downright motherly to Reid while still managing to give Morgan a glare that could kill most men.

 _'Mother of douche,'_  Aaron brooded.  _'Fuck, I better let this play out so I've got some fucking amount of plausible deniability if this all goes to shit.'_

* * *

She wasn't sure what to make of Morgan and Reid's behavior. Anyone could see that the two men were still upset with each other, to the point that Emily was starting to wonder if they'd actually broken up. The utter misery that they were both desperately trying to keep to themselves was as oppressive as a muggy summer day.

That was why she only felt slightly embarrassed about staying away from the bullpen as much as was humanly possible. She'd considered hunkering down in Garcia's lair to be an option before quickly dismissing it after remembering the war path the technical analyst had been on earlier in the morning. While it was obvious she didn't actually need ask Dave for his opinion about a pretty straight forward consult, his office probably was the best place to camp out until things got better and using a relatively transparent excuse to get out of there made her feel less guilty.

She sighed. _'...it's just gonna be one of those days.'_

* * *

She'd managed to extract a few details from Reid when she brought him to work and wasn't quite sure what to think. It was strange that Morgan never came home, but she couldn't quite wrap her head around the idea that it automatically meant Morgan had cheated. She even called Tony when she had a free moment to get his take on things; while he didn't seem pleased with Morgan's actions, he didn't think Morgan was angry enough to fuck up that royally.

Penelope's suspicion gave way to anger – that Morgan had been extremely hypocritical in his jealousy, that he'd made Reid feel ridiculously insecure in the first place, that he hadn't come home and thus, made Reid fret even more.

It didn't help that she was feeling rather ticked off at the rest of the team. She'd taken some time to watch the security feeds and saw how everyone completely ignored both men. Sure, she'd expected it, but she was still entirely appalled by her co-workers' behavior. These were smart people who knew far more about psychology than she ever would and they sure as hell knew how to talk an emotionally disturbed unsub off the proverbial ledge...and yet, their emotional IQs appeared to plummet exponentially when it came to any signs of distress coming from within the team. The only reasonable explanation she could come up with was that their moratorium on profiling each other made them too hesitant to actually act when they noticed things getting bad. Even more infuriating was the fact that they knew how disastrous the consequences of ignoring problems could be – it had completely destroyed Elle and her career, allowed Reid's drug habit to fester, contributed to Gideon's burn out, and nearly demolished Hotch.

She wasn't about to sit on the sidelines and let Morgan and Reid's relationship to flounder because of what she hoped was just one big misunderstanding.

* * *

The email popped up in his inbox as it neared lunch time - _"You. Me. Noon. That Indian place down the street. No is not an acceptable answer."_

He wasn't hungry, but it didn't matter - Derek knew better than to ignore Garcia's "request" when she was already obviously pissed off about something, even if he wasn't quite sure what it was.

 _"Okay."_

* * *

She sat silently through the car ride and waited patiently for the waitress to take their order before finally speaking.

"What the fresh hell happened after I left last night?" she asked, trying her best to stay calm.

Morgan pinched his nose. "I don't even know Garcia. I was just so jealous and upset, I wasn't even thinking about consequences."

"Well, maybe you should have!" She couldn't help the venom in her voice and she saw Morgan visibly flinch.

"I fucked up, I know I did," he admitted, hanging his head slightly, "but he shouldn't have..."

"Are you seriously blaming Reid for all this?" she interrupted, disturbed by the fact that she was starting to wonder if Morgan actually had cheated on Reid.

"No, not for all of it. My mistakes are my own, and I mean...look, I didn't think I'd pushed him that far, but no matter how guilty he feels, I'm not going to take the blame for his actions and you shouldn't expect me to."

Now she was just plain confused. "What are you even talking about?"

"Garcia, how is it in any way my fault that Spencer cheated on me?"

She frowned. "How can you even think that? That poor boy..."

"He didn't come home last night," Morgan stated, cutting her off.

And with that, all the pieces started falling into place...except one.

* * *

Spencer's phone vibrated and he found just one simple text on his screen -  **"it's not what it seems"**

 _'...great, Garcia interfered AND feels the need to send me cryptic texts about it, perfect...'_  he ruminated.

He'd done a fairly decent job at avoiding Derek all morning, but after lunch, Derek became intent on getting his attention. Knowing paperwork and flat out ignoring the man wouldn't continue to be a viable option much longer, especially with his coffee mug running dangerously low, he braced himself for a conversation he wasn't ready to have. Sure enough, when he got up to get coffee, Derek trailed behind him.

"We need to talk."

He sighed. "I can't do this today, not after last night and definitely not while we're at work." He bit his lip, trying to be strong. "I just...I need some space."

"I wouldn't have brought it up here, except...before you go home, I needed you to know that I'll fix the hole in your living room wall."

His mouth opened and closed a few times before he was able to respond. "You'll... _what_?"

Derek grimaced. "I'm sorry, I really am, it's just... Look, when I woke up on your couch this morning and you hadn't come home, I kinda assumed you cheated on me."

He raised an eyebrow. "So you punched my wall? When did property damage become an acceptable response to baseless assumptions?"

"In my defense, those walls are very thin," Derek tried to joke.

"My patience is running thin," he muttered. "Wait, how did you get in?"

It had been a point of contention when Derek gave him a key and he hadn't reciprocated, but he hadn't felt ready and Derek had eventually understood. If nothing else, the makeup sex had been memorable.

"That's why I used the hide-a-key from your rear tire well," Derek explained.

That made sense and his anger was fading, which meant he needed to make this quick."Okay, I guess...you can come over and fix it this weekend because that really needs to be fixed. But Morgan, it's really messed up that we don't trust each other. I mean, yeah, I trust you to have my back in the field, but the fact that neither of us trusts the other not to cheat? That's not...healthy and I don't know how to deal with that. I guess what I'm trying to say is...I'm sorry, I'm still gonna need some space."

Spencer turned towards the coffee pot, hoping that he wouldn't see Derek's face fall, but it didn't matter much - the pain was heavy in his response. "Sure, uh, whatever you need Reid."

His heart was breaking, but he knew he was doing the right thing. Better now before Derek started feeling responsible for him. Better now while he still had a reason that wouldn't be questioned.

As Derek walked back to the bullpen, Spencer closed his eyes in a futile attempt to make the nausea and blurry flashes of colored light disappear.


	14. It's Love; Make It Hurt

They were both miserable, anyone with eyes could tell, and for that reason alone, Derek really didn't understand why they were apart. He was snapping at small things that normally wouldn't have bothered him, especially when Reid went on a tangent, and Derek could see himself making mistakes, doing things he knew were unprofessional or otherwise against protocol. His confrontation of James Anderson at his political fundraiser sprung to mind.

His platonic flirting with Seaver seemed to trigger something akin to jealousy in Reid, given the way Reid had interrupted him and later, Reid started flirting with her as well. Morgan knew neither of them was interested in actually pursuing her and Seaver didn't seem particularly interested either, so jealousy wasn't the issue, at least on his end. The issue was the ache it made him feel. As Reid had requested, Morgan tried to keep a distance, but it was difficult being so close and yet so far from what he couldn't have nearly every day.

Worse than that, there was something wrong with Reid. For awhile, he couldn't quite put his finger on it, except that he was positive that it wasn't entirely related to their “break.” Reid constantly looked ill and was making mistakes he hadn't made in years, like going after an unsub on his own without his ballistic vest. Thankfully, he was far more physically capable than he had been in Georgia - those crutches had improved his upper body strength - and was just as mentally sharp despite whatever was happening to him. Still, once Julio pointed out that he was flinching at lights, said he had ghosts in his head, Derek could see similarities between his mother when she was in the midst of a migraine and Reid. This left him confused; why would Reid be denying something so simple and so common? Was he afraid Hotch would take him out of the field? Was there something more that he wasn't telling the team?

For a moment, Derek let himself wonder if Reid had a brain tumor, if he was dying. That would certainly make his damn near suicidal actions make sense and it would definitely explain why Reid had pushed him away, but he didn't let himself think about it for long. The idea that Reid was sick, even if it was just migraines, and he wasn't around to help was painful enough.

***

As much as it killed him, Spencer just wanted Morgan to move on. He tried to make it look like he was moving on, flirting with Seaver and others in the department, but Spencer could tell that Morgan wasn't buying his bluff.

The headaches just kept getting worse and nothing seemed to help. Spencer saw multiple specialists; they all told him no tumors, no abnormalities, and really, everything looked just fine. It embarrassed him to think about the rude ways he had treated some of them after they told him, especially the first one - after all, it was supposed to be a relief that his MRIs came back normal, right?

The things Spencer saw were auras, he tried to tell himself, definitely not hallucinations, so clearly he was just experiencing migraines. Even if the headaches were psychosomatic, it didn't mean he was developing his mother's illness; psychosomatic complaints, especially headaches, were common for people with schizophrenia, but they were far from being a part of the diagnostic criteria. Trying to talk himself down from the worst case scenarios didn't really work though because the fear had always been in the back of his mind, waiting for any shred of evidence that could possibly used against his claim of sanity.

Spencer does tell Prentiss, but really, it's a bargaining chip, an attempt to get her to talk about what's on her mind. She doesn't return the favor though and while he's not terribly surprised, it does hurt.

Days later, when he'd found out why Prentiss didn't say anything, it felt even worse.

***

Dead.

That's what JJ said. Prentiss was dead and Morgan had felt her let go, felt her slip out of reach. Her last words were the ones she spoke to him. Some part of him probably felt guilty that it hadn't been Rossi - god, _Rossi_ \- but for the time being, the concept of feelings was foreign and lost on him. He'd been numb for hours now and even the tears that fell didn't feel like his.

If only he had been there minutes earlier, this wouldn't be happening.

***

Spencer wasn't sure how he'd ended up at Morgan's house, pressing Morgan against a wall and frotting against him like the world might end, but then again, he didn't understand how Prentiss could be dead and hell, maybe the world was ending. This was what he needed - to feel alive, to know the person he loved most was alive - and he didn't think anything could stop him.

"Spencer, oh god," Morgan moaned into his ear. The fact that it was the first time he'd called him that in months wasn't lost on Spencer.

Morgan cupped his face, held Spencer still while he kissed him. It was tender and deep and it hurt to feel the obvious love the other man had for him. What Spencer was doing wasn't right, this was fucking cruel if he thought about it, but instead of dwelling on the thought, he grabbed Morgan's ass, pulling their groins closer. Even though Spencer had been attempting to stay silent, he couldn't hold back his moan when he felt Morgan's erection press against his own. Morgan let go of his face to grab his ass too, giving him leverage to grind harder against Spencer.

The rhythm was familiar, practiced, and Spencer felt himself getting lost in it, which was good. He can't stop, he didn't want to stop in the first place; he wanted to stay like this forever, but he knew he couldn't have that, not if he was sick. Sensation threatened to overwhelm him and he was starting to think he might come in his pants before they'd even gotten very far along.

"I missed you so much," Morgan whispered, his hands creeping up the back of Spencer's shirt. "I love you."

Something inside him broke at that simple sentence because, god, Spencer can't do this to Morgan, he can't break his heart any more than pulling away at that moment will.

"Fuck, no, stop Morgan, I..." Spencer faltered, trying to come up with the right words as he removed his hands and stepped back. "I can't, this is wrong."

For a brief moment, anger flashed across Morgan's features and Spencer worried that all his hard work to protect Morgan would be for nothing. In that moment, with the world crashing down around them, the temptation of falling back into their relationship would be too strong for him to flat out reject, even if it would be better for both of them to stay separated. Just as quickly as it appeared, the anger was gone, replaced by an emptiness that made Spencer shudder.

“It's...you should lay down,” Spencer said.

Morgan numbly nodded, allowed Spencer to lead him into the bedroom, and didn't squirm as Spencer stripped him down to his boxers. The look in his eyes as Spencer led him towards the bed was what had him promising to stay until Morgan fell asleep.

He kept his promise; yes, he stayed longer than particularly necessary, but when the sun started rising, Spencer got out of bed and went home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~Yet again, I'm unsure when the next chapter will be out, though I have ideas. I generally respond to comments, but I just want to thank everyone again for leaving me comments; they really mean a lot to me and I love hearing what people think, good or bad, about what I've written.~~
> 
> 2/16/2014 EDIT: please see [this fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1182286) if you'd like the closest thing to an ending this fic is probably gonna get. I thought about doing some minor retconning to this chapter in order to make it fit, but that made me uncomfortable, so it's a separate fic. I hope you like it. Thanks to everyone who has loved this fic; I'm sorry that it'll likely never have a proper ending, but that's just the way life goes sometimes.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Love Each Other Well](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1182286) by [freakingdork](https://archiveofourown.org/users/freakingdork/pseuds/freakingdork)




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